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This defines insanity. Bumping and bumping and bumping into some invisible barrier with my destination straight ahead, in sight. I don’t know how I got here, and now I can’t get out.

It’s so bright out there today, the sun shines through but it’s not the same. So many others like me, living off waste, why should anyone care? I’ve seen such random meanness, such evil, my friends murdered in front of me, in front of others, and none of the monsters even react. Some watch the killings, others ignore them, but they all just go on with their lives like nothing happened. Sure, they’re still breathing, still eating and sleeping and shitting, still making the waste that feeds us.

All I really want is my freedom. To feel the wind blow against me, let it move me, glide. That, and some food.

Wait, I sense something, someone, one of the monsters. Should I hide or just stay still?

*****

“Yo Garret, did you drink the last few beers last night?” Joseph asks.